eet by the
cruel force and lay, face downward, upon the icy sand! Hurt and
discouraged, she yet managed to rise. The pain roused her dulled senses
and in the lull that followed a strange ghostly sound was borne seaward.
She stopped and stood upright. Again it came, plaintively and
persistently, rising and falling. As if the faint note had power over
night and tempest, the blackness seemed to break; the snow ceased, and
overhead, through a riven cloud, a pale, frightened moon peered
curiously. Then the wind shrieked defiantly. But again it came, that
tender, penetrating call, nearer, nearer, over the dunes, and down
toward the thundering sea!

Still, as if frozen where she stood, Janet waited for--she knew not
what! Some one, in the dim, grayish light, was coming toward her, some
one tall and strong, but well-nigh spent! The man had seen her, too.

"How far am I from the Station?" he shouted.

It was Thornly's voice! It was the little whistle's call that had
stilled the storm, and brought hope!

Janet could not answer. All power seemed gone from her. When he came
close he would know her and then--why, why had he come?

The girl had forgotten her disfiguring garments. Thornly was within a
foot of her before he understood. Then he reeled back. The moon, for
another still moment, shone full upon the ice-covered figure and the
upturned face framed by the old sou'wester.

"My God!" he cried and stretched out his arms, hardly knowing whether he
were warding off an apparition or reaching out to the woman he was
seeking so earnestly.

"You!" he whispered, "you! Alone out here in all the storm and
darkness!" She tried to answer, but words failed her. She smiled
pitifully and put her hands in his.

"I have wandered for hours!" Thornly was holding the girl closer. "Do
you hear and understand, Janet? I went to the Light. I saw your note
lying open on the table; I was afraid for you! I lost my way on the ice.
I had only Davy's Light to guide me; I landed, heaven only knows where!
But I wanted you! I've got you at last!" A fierceness shook the eager
voice, that was raised above the noises of the night.

"Yes!" Janet spoke low and dreamily; again the cold stilled her pain.
The moon was hidden and grim darkness held them. "You--you
want--me--to--help you finish--your picture!"

It really was a small matter; but even in the strangeness and numbness
the girl wished he had not come. He was greater and dearer when he had
stayed